When You Assume
by Impish Ferret
Summary: Minerva assumes that Hermione has more than friendly feelings for her. Finally accepting her own feelings for the younger witch, she hatches a plan to get Hermione to admit to those feelings. Things don't go as planned. Please R&R!
1. When You Assume

**Sooo, I had an idea that I thought would be fun, and now it's almost 5000 words long… Oh well!**

**I own nothing! Enjoy!**

***Saturday evening***

"Minerva McGonagall, how dare you!" Hermione exploded, shoving Minerva away, hurt and rage swirling in her eyes. "How dare you presume to know how I feel! Whatever this is that you're doing, just stop!" She spun on her heel, striding a few steps down the cobblestone alleyway before apparating away.

"Shite," Minerva muttered, running a hand through her hair. That had not gone at all how she had planned it.

***3 weeks earlier***

Hermione Granger strode down Diagon Alley one Monday morning, heading for Flourish and Blotts in search of a particular book on charms that might help in her latest research project. At that time of day there were few shoppers out, and Hermione took the opportunity to appreciate the winding road full of shops in all its glory. The repairs after the war had been exceptional, and every shop seemed as though nothing horrible had ever taken place there.

So caught up in her daydreaming, Hermione failed to notice that someone had stepped out of the shop to her right, causing her to bump straight into them.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she rushed, reaching out to steady the witch she had almost bowled over. Her eyes widened in surprise when she found herself looking up into the bright green eyes of Minerva McGonagall. "Headmistress," she uttered, pulling her features into an unreadable mask. "I'm sorry, are you alright?"

Minerva looked just as shocked to see her former student out in Diagon Alley this early in the day.

"I'm quite alright Hermione, thank you," she responded. "How many times have I told you to use my given name since you're no longer my student?" she chided, looking down at the shorter witch with a small smile.

"Several times, Headmistress," Hermione replied, stepping away from the older woman.

"And how many times should I have to let you know before you actually do it?" Minerva asked her with a grin, hands on hips.

Hermione smiled back at her.

"At least once more, Headmistress," Hermione said, glancing up into those green eyes.

Inside, she was reeling, anything but calm at having bumped into her former Professor on her trip out that morning. Those green eyes had been haunting her for the last two years. After the battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had returned to school to finish her missed seventh year and had gotten to know the headmistress rather well. They had tea in her office at least twice a month, discussing new research in both Transfiguration and Charms.

Over those months, Hermione had felt her feelings for the older witch slowly turning from adoration, to those of affection, and eventually to attraction. By the end of the year, Hermione was so ashamed that after she graduated, she hadn't even owled the older witch, instead managing to see her only at ministry events or the odd Sunday dinner at the insistence of Molly Weasley.

Her persistence in using the honourific when addressing the dark haired witch in front of her was a measure of self preservation. Not allowing the familiarity of calling the older witch by her given name had kept a certain amount of distance between them that Hermione felt was necessary, lest she let herself slip back into old patterns of thoughts and feelings.

Minerva clucked her tongue at the smaller brunette in front of her.

"I don't know why you insist Hermione," she muttered, straightening her robes. "It's been ages since I was your teacher, we fought a war together."

"Call it a quirk," Hermione offered. "You're out early this morning" she said, deflecting the conversation onto something else.

Minerva blushed, confusing Hermione. What on earth could she have to be embarrassed about?

"Ahem, yes well, being an animagus sometimes has its disadvantages," she said, straightening her posture.

Hermione looked to the window behind Minerva and noticed they were outside of Magical Menagerie, the magical creature shop.

Hermione realized that Minerva must have been in there shopping for herself, rather than for a magical pet, and found herself unable to maintain her facial features.

"Oh hush!" Minerva admonished her, giving her a poke in the shoulder. "Hairballs are murder, you'd want help in dealing with them as well."

Hermione let herself have one giggle before she schooled her features.

"I'm sorry Headmistress," she apologized. "I just would never have thought that would be an issue for the esteemed Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall."

"Yes well, Headmistress or not, I'm still only human. Or in this case, a cat." She fiddled with her shopping bag as Hermione started shuffling her feet in the direction she had originally been headed.

"Hermione," she urged. "Would you like to get together for tea? There was a new article in Transfiguration Today recently and I thought you might like to chat about it. It's been a long time since I've had your input."

Hermione paused where she was, shocked at the invitation. Two years she had managed to avoid the woman beyond anything more than large social events, why now would she want to get together and chat? Knowing it was rude to decline outright, but unwilling to make a concrete time, Hermione smiled at the older witch.

"That sounds nice," she offered, "I'll owl you?"

Minerva's face fell at her response but smiled back nonetheless.

"I look forward to it. Have a good day, Hermione."

"You as well, Headmistress."

Hermione turned and headed back in the direction of Flourish and Blotts, completely baffled by Minerva's sudden invitation to tea. She couldn't do it. She just wasn't ready, she told herself. Two years clearly hadn't been enough for her feelings to finally calm down. Two years hadn't been enough for her heart to stop jumping into her throat when she looked into those beautiful green eyes. Two years hadn't been enough. No, she wouldn't be sending an owl, no matter how much her heart might want her to.

***2 weeks earlier***

Minerva sat in her office, letting out a huff of frustration. Hermione had said that she would owl her, but it had been over a week and she hadn't heard anything from the younger witch. Realizing that her own frustration was caused by the thought that Hermione might be avoiding her, wasn't helping.

Two years had passed since they had last spent any meaningful time together socially. Minerva assumed at first that it was because Hermione had graduated and was settling into her life outside of school. But as time wore on she began to worry that it was something she herself had done to upset the brightest witch of her age.

Minerva had done everything she could to ensure that Hermione never learned of her professor's attraction, disgusted with herself when she had realized she had feelings for the golden girl. Two years she had worked at pushing her feelings aside. Two years she had given the young Gryffindor as much space as she could manage. Two years hadn't been enough. Over those two years she had never stopped to think about why Hermione had never contacted her either.

Now though, with the realization that Hermione had been avoiding her as well, Minerva couldn't help but wonder why.

"Well, we'll see about that," Minerva muttered to her empty office, pulling out a small piece of parchment and sliding her inkwell across the worn desktop. Hermione was too polite to decline a direct invite, so Minerva quickly penned a letter to her former protege.

***The next day***

Waking to the sound of gentle tapping on her bedroom window, Hermione rolled over to peer at the large tawny owl she saw perched there. Groaning, she stood to let the bird in. As it landed on her desk, she reached out to untie the roll of parchment that had been secured to one of its legs.

"Where did you come from?" she asked out loud, unrolling the missive and giving the owl a treat for its services.

Seeing the Hogwarts crest at the top of the note, Hermione froze. She wouldn't. But she had. Hermione rolled the parchment open completely, pausing only to take note of the familiar slanting cursive that she knew all too well.

_Hermione,_ it read.

_I hope this note finds you well. I was hoping to hear from you earlier in the week, but since no correspondence found its way to me, I assume your owl must have gotten lost. _Cheeky, Hermione thought.

_As such, I have taken the liberty of writing you in the hopes that you will acquiesce to my request for tea. I will have a room at the Leaky Cauldron reserved on Monday afternoon at 2:00 if you would be so kind as to join me there._

_Warm regards,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Unbelievable, Hermione thought to herself. The nerve! The gall! It was almost Slytherin of her. Hermione knew she couldn't ignore her, but shook her head at the audacity of the older woman forcing her hand in such a way.

She reached for a quill, whipped it out of its well and put it to parchment with indignation. She huffed as she penned a tactful reply.

***Monday afternoon, 1 week earlier***

Minerva shuffled her feet nervously on the floor beneath her chair. 2:00 was fast approaching, she had checked the time with a tempus charm three times in the last five minutes. Nervousness covered her body like a cloak, hunching her shoulders and making her limbs restless. Hermione had responded in the affirmative. She would be coming, there was nothing to be nervous about.

Casting another tempus, her eyes flicked towards the worn oak door that was the entrance to the room, willing it to open. Taking a calming breath, she stood to hover in front of the fire, staring into the flames as they danced in the hearth.

The heavy latch clicked open and she turned to follow Hermione's progress as she pushed her way into the room.

"Hermione," Minerva started, "I'm so glad you came." She moved toward the table and chairs as Hermione closed the door.

"Good afternoon Headmistress," Hermione replied, hovering near the door. Her features spoke of nervousness, but also of determination. She took a deep breath and strode to where Minerva stood, waiting. She continued around the chairs and faced Minerva quietly before settling into the chair opposite her.

Minerva sat as well, crossing her her legs primly before reaching to pour the tea.

"I want to apologize Hermione," she muttered, steeling herself for the younger witch's reaction. "I admit to being rather forward in my attempt to get you here today." She passed Hermione a teacup and slid the plate of ginger newts across the table, observing her carefully.

Hermione sat quietly for a moment before looking into Minerva's eyes and smiling.

"_I_ admit to being quite surprised by your letter, actually," she said sipping her tea. "I got quite busy with work and completely forgot to owl you. It's me who should be apologizing."

"It's quite alright dear," she smiled back. "I assumed something must have come up or you would have owled me, I just saved you the trouble." She sipped her tea, peering at Hermione over the rim of her cup.

"Why _were_ you so adamant?" Hermione asked her, reaching for a ginger newt. The smell immediately transported her back to Minerva's office at Hogwarts, which perpetually emanated the Scottish witch's favourite treat.

"Honestly? I miss our conversations, Hermione." She put her teacup down gently and looked intently at Hermione. "I could rarely debate with anyone as well as you. I feel as though our time apart has robbed us of the connection we used to have when we would discuss recent research, or magical creature rights, or life in general." She again reached for her cup, more bold now that she was speaking freely. "Am I being presumptuous in assuming that you might miss those things as well?"

Hermione sighed, cradling her cup to her chest and wrapping her fingers around it like a lifeline. Her eyes were clouded with struggle, but she returned Minerva's gaze evenly.

"No," she uttered. "You're not wrong. I do miss our conversations. I have missed them. It just never seemed like the right time to contact you." She slackened the grip on her teacup and relaxed her shoulders. "You never contacted me either though."

"Aye, I didn't," Minerva replied, thumbing the handle of her cup. "I always assumed you were busy settling into life outside of school, and that you didn't need a stuffy old professor taking up your time."

"What changed?"

Minerva looked at Hermione again, noting the ever present curiosity in brown eyes.

"You quite literally bumped into me," she said, smiling at the younger witch. "It made me realize how much time we'd lost, and that I'd missed your company and ridiculously sharp mind."

The small intake of breath across the table hinted at things that gave Minerva hope, but she dared not push her luck too much. It had been a feat already just getting the young brunette to meet her at all, let alone that she might feel the same.

The moment stretched, and Minerva worried that she had said the wrong thing.

"You're not a stuffy old professor," Hermione finally replied, taking another small sip of her tea. "Our debates were a highlight from my time at Hogwarts."

She let the statement hang and Minerva knew this was as hard on Hermione as it was on her. She didn't know why she knew, she just had an inkling, and decided to push the conversation toward other topics to give them a break from the current one.

"Then let us renew our debates," she encouraged, "although in this case I think we tend to agree. Silvanus Hearst is at it again with his concept of permanent trans-species transfiguration."

Hermione inelegantly snorted into her cup.

"How has nobody imprisoned that old coot for cruelty to animals?" she asked, reaching out for another ginger newt. "Honestly, that man should be locked away. I can't believe he's still being published."

"I knew you'd say that, and I wholeheartedly agree, he's even tried to claim that creatures immediately adapt to their new forms without pain or emotional distress, bollocks in my opinion."

Relaxed into their old banter, the two witches spent more than a few hours discussing the many topics they used to frequent, and Minerva secretly hoped that things would continue in the same fashion.

***4 days earlier***

Hermione again woke to the gentle tapping of a beak on her window and she allowed herself the briefest of moments to hope that it was from Minerva. She rolled onto her back and craned her neck toward the window where a great grey owl sat patiently waiting to deliver its message. Sighing, knowing that Minerva's owl was a tawny, she stretched and pulled herself out of bed to retrieve the large bird's message.

Giving it a treat before it again took to the sky, Hermione looked down at the small roll of parchment it had delivered. As she unrolled it, her eyes shot skyward at the untidy scrawl littered across the surface. Ron's penmanship remained horrible, even into adulthood, and Hermione had the urge to roll her eyes every time she looked at it. Getting past her slight irritation, she scanned his message. He was planning a get together on Saturday evening with all of their friends and wanted to know if she 'could pull herself out of her books long enough to pop by.'

Rolling her eyes again, she reached for her quill to pen an answer. As she finished, she was startled by another gentle tapping at her window. Snapping her eyes around, she saw Minerva's small tawny owl perched on her sill. Her heart fluttered at the thought of another invitation from the Headmistress. Their time spent on Monday afternoon had tempered some of her earlier hesitation at spending time with the dark haired witch, and she was caught between excitement at rekindling their regular discussions, which she valued so much, and trepidation at how her her heart would fare in the long run if they did.

"Hello again," she muttered as she opened the window for the second time. "It's Astraea, right?" she asked the little bird, who nipped her fingers in response. "Of course," she chuckled, "how could I have forgotten, terribly rude of me." She received a small hoot and smiled as she removed the note tied to her leg.

Minerva's smooth lines and neat loops immediately made her smile, regardless of the content. It was another invitation, as she'd secretly hoped, or feared depending on how she thought about it, and was surprised to see that it was also for Saturday evening.

Her eyes drifted to the response she had been working on for Ron, now torn between two invitations for the same day and time. She looked back to Astraea, patiently waiting for her treat.

"What am I going to do?" she asked the owl, who cocked her head to the side in response.

***Saturday evening***

Apparating into Muggle London was always a risk, Minerva knew, but was also a secret pleasure. Muggles were seldom paying enough attention to notice anything around them, and Minerva loved the chance to get away from the wizarding world and relax for a little while. She had chosen Muggle London as a sort of ode to Hermione's parentage, and thought that it might make Hermione see her in a different light than simply as the Headmistress.

She smoothed the front of her coat nervously before pulling herself up to her full height and stepping out of the little park she had apparated into. The small cafe she had suggested was less than a two minute walk and she made good time, coming around the corner nearest the shop with five minutes to spare.

She gaped as she saw Hermione walking from the other direction. The muggleborn had freed her chestnut curls from their usual ponytail and they framed her face gently, swaying as she walked. She had also forgone her usual jumper and jeans, and had donned a white dress that fell to her knees in a soft eyeletted material.

Composing herself, Minerva continued forward, raising her hand in greeting.

"Good evening, Hermione," she said, taming the excited quiver in her voice as they reached the door to the cafe.

"Good evening," Hermione replied, smiling at Minerva with a look in her eyes that the Scottish witch couldn't place. "Shall we?" She indicated the door to her left and Minerva reached out to open it for her, stunned by the confidence in the younger woman, hanging back to allow her to enter first.

Following Hermione into the little shop, Minerva took a moment to marvel at how well things were going. She had to remind herself that things might be going well, but that she couldn't push Hermione too quickly. She still wasn't sure of the younger witch's feelings and didn't want to lose the what little ground they had made.

They ordered their drinks and made their way to a table in the far corner of the cafe, surrounded by floor to ceiling bookshelves, which Minerva knew Hermione would appreciate, it was one of the reasons she loved it there so much herself.

"How did you find this place?"Hermione asked, settling herself in one of the chairs and inspecting the many spines closest to her.

Minerva chuckled, "that, my dear, is a secret." She placed her cup on the table before shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the back of her chair. As she turned back to sit down, she caught Hermione's eyes glued to her body. She preened under the scrutiny, settling herself in her chair with a grin across her face.

"Distracted, dear?" she asked, reaching up to take her hair down from its complicated bun.

As her dark tresses cascaded over her shoulders, she gave them a little shake and looked back at Hermione, who was now struck dumb, red colouring her cheeks in the most fetching way Minerva had ever seen. She smiled innocently at the blushing witch across from her and reached for her mug.

Hermione immediately blinked and averted her gaze, reaching for her own cup and spluttering in embarrassment.

"I, err, that is, I've never seen you with your hair down before." She kept her focus on her drink, eyes boring a hole in the ceramic.

Minerva smirked, triumph in her eyes as she watched Hermione struggle to control her features. Deciding to give her a break, Minerva relaxed her posture and sipped her drink.

"Relax, Hermione," Minerva chuckled. "I was teasing you."

Hermione raised her head and peered at Minerva, sizing up the comment, along with the eyes, dancing with mirth.

"Ahem, it's just a shock to see you in such a relaxed and different environment I suppose." She fiddled with her mug, watching it turn between her fingers. "I've never seen you in muggle clothes before either, what inspired you to venture out among muggles?"

"I just decided that I needed a change." She shrugged, turning her head to look around their corner of the cafe at the other patrons. "It's nice to be out somewhere and not be recognized as the esteemed and venerable Headmistress of Hogwarts. Don't you find it irritating that you cannae even go out for a cuppa without people gawking at you?"

Hermione chuckled.

"That it is. I go out to do my shopping in muggle London as much as possible, unless I'm specifically looking for magical items." Hermione finally sipped her drink and let out a sigh. "It's actually quite nice here. Honestly, I haven't gone out for a cup of tea or a drink with anybody in ages. Thank you for the invite."

"You're quite welcome Hermione," Minerva replied. "I've been a recluse as well recently. Even Filius is urging me to get out of the castle more often."

Hermione smiled at the mention of the half goblin, remembering his tufts of white hair fondly. She sat back as Minerva started telling her about a recent run in he'd had with a pair of fifth year Ravenclaws who'd decided it was their duty to turn their dormitories into a magical escape room of sorts, which the diminutive professor had had to logic his way through in order to undo all of their hard work.

As she entertained Hermione with tales of the castle and its students, and their cups grew empty, Minerva decided that the next step of her evening plan was in order.

"Hermione," she started. "Since our cups are empty and our hosts will be closing up shop soon, would you like to take a walk with me? If you're not too tired, that is." She peeked at the younger brunette through her lashes, secretly pleading that things were going well and that she wasn't pushing too much.

The response took but a moment.

"I'd love to."

Minerva's heart soared at hearing those words and she beamed at Hermione as she stood to collect her coat.

They exited the little cafe and turned toward the park that Minerva had first apparated into. Their pace was easy and they continued to chat as they progressed around the corner and down the sidewalk to the park. They strolled through the gate and along the wide gravel path that wound its way between the trees, the gravel crunching under their shoes as they walked.

Minerva was ecstatic. The evening was going better than she could have hoped. Hermione was opening up again, she had clearly made a conscious effort to change her wardrobe for their meeting, and she had been caught staring at Minerva, blushing. The thought crossed her mind that maybe all Hermione needed was a little push to allow herself to see Minerva the way Minerva hoped she did.

She continued to steer their progress towards the centre of the park where she knew a gazebo was nestled in a grove of willow trees that had been wrapped in little electric lights. Why on earth they were called fairy lights, she would never understand, as they clearly resembled nothing like any fairy she had ever seen.

They rounded the final bend in the path and Minerva heard the intake of breath that let her know her effort had not been wasted.

"This is beautiful!" Hermione dashed ahead to gaze in wonder at the surrounding trees. She turned to look at Minerva, who was making her way towards her. "This really is beautiful… Minerva. Thank you again for the invitation tonight."

Minerva faltered and then nearly squealed with joy at finally having her given name fall from those lips.

"You're welcome again, Hermione." She replied, coming to stand in front of the smaller brunette. "I'm glad you like it, I've been unable to share this place with anyone since I discovered it some time ago." She stepped closer, letting her eyes drift over Hermione's face in the pale blue light.

The air around them seemed to hum with energy as the moment stretched and they looked at one another. Minerva started to reach a hand out to Hermione, when suddenly the younger woman stepped away.

"You still haven't told me how you discovered these little hideaways," she said turning to make her way to the gazebo.

Minerva sighed. "No, I suppose I didn't. It's simple really, I left the Leaky Cauldron one day and decided that I would just walk until I found somewhere that spoke to me. This place did. It's not far to the Cauldron from here actually. Would you be interested in a drink?" Maybe the push was a little too soon, but Minerva could be patient, After the last two years, seeing that Hermione might have feelings for her as well made a little bit of waiting seem like the most inconsequential thing in the world.

Hermione turned back to face her and smiled.

"That would be nice, lead the way."

They moved away from the little grove of trees but continued in the direction they had started. In a few short minutes, they came to another arching gate and paused for a moment to wait for traffic before crossing.

"That's one thing I'll never really get used to." Minerva muttered as they stepped back up onto the curb.

"What's that?" Hermione asked her, placing her hand in the crook of Minerva's elbow. She kept her eyes forward, not giving away any emotion.

"Err.." she muttered, thrown off by the gentle pressure of Hermione's hand. "Cars. I often forget to look both ways."

"Don't worry, you'll get better at it." Hermione replied, grinning up at her, "most muggle children remember to do it by around age ten."

Minerva's jaw dropped open at the cheeky statement.

"Hermione Granger, did you just compare me to a small muggle child?" Minerva asked, shocked at how relaxed Hermione was becoming so quickly.

Hermione giggled then, a small tinkling sound that Minerva decided she could listen to forever.

"Yes, I suppose I- oh shite!" She gripped Minerva's arm and heaved her into the small alleyway they had been crossing.

Before she knew what was happening, Minerva had been spun around so that she was enclosing the younger witch against a rough brick wall, their bodies close, almost touching. She dared not breathe at their proximity, nor move the hand that was currently pressed against the wall effectively trapping Hermione in between.

Hermione's wand whipped out, tapped Minerva on the head, and she had the horribly uncomfortable raw egg feeling of a disillusionment charm running down her body. Hermione then waved her wand in a circular motion over her own head and Minerva watched as she slowly disappeared in front of her.

"Hermione," she muttered, "what are we doing?"

"Shh," Hermione shushed her, "it's Ron. I avoided owling him back about going out tonight after I got your invitation. He's walking up the street towards us and I just don't want to deal with his immaturity tonight."

Minerva wished she could see the younger woman's face as they stood so close together. She had avoided going out with Ronald in order to spend time with her? That in itself was exciting, let alone the way they were stood. Not being able to see the younger witch made Minerva a bit more bold than she would normally have been. She raised her other arm and placed it where she knew Hermione's waist to be.

There was a sharp intake of breath and a hand found its way to her forearm, stilling her movements.

They froze as Ron walked loudly past with Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. After they were gone, Minerva muttered a small finite and they both reappeared in front of the other.

"Minerva," Hermione uttered, eyes wide, staring up at her, and breathing shallow. "What are you doing?"

"I'm being bold," she replied. "I am a Gryffindor after all." She moved her thumb slightly on Hermione's rib cage and Hermione froze again. "I know you feel it too." She leaned her head forward, intending on kissing the beautiful witch, but..

"Minerva McGonagall, how dare you!" Hermione exploded, shoving Minerva away, hurt and rage swirling in her eyes. "How dare you presume to know how I feel! Whatever this is that you're doing, just stop!" She spun on her heel, striding a few steps down the cobblestone alleyway before apparating away.

"Shite," Minerva muttered, running a hand through her hair. That had not gone at all how she had planned it.

**Well there it is! I was intending on this being a fun little one shot but it completely got away from me and now it will be a two shot. Or more. I don't know! Haha.**

**Thank you for reading, please R&R!**

**Imp**


	2. Part 2: Still Assuming

**Okay, part 2! I decided that trying to squish this into two big chunks would make it harder to read, so you're going to get more chapters! Yay!**

**Enjoy!**

***Later that night: Hermione's POV***

Scrabbling to his feet, Crookshanks hissed at the sudden intruder who appeared with a crack like a gunshot. Hermione didn't even look at him, so consumed with her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed his outburst.

"The nerve of that woman!" she blurted to herself, beginning to pace the length of her small flat. "_I know you feel it too._ Psh, what on earth does she think she knows?! I pushed all my feelings aside for two years thinking I was crazy, two years Crooks!" She turned to face the orange half-kneazle who had settled himself back on his pillow.

"Now, she's bulldozed her way back into my life, and all of a sudden she has feelings for me too?! It's too much!"

She turned to pace again, threading her hands through her hair in irritation, before pausing.

"_Does_ she have feelings for me? Was it me? Maybe she just had a spur of the moment impulse because of how I was clinging to her." Her brow crinkled in concentration as she thought over what had happened.

"Argh!" She strode to her bathroom and turned on the shower. A good hot shower was exactly what she needed to clear her head. There was nothing she couldn't think up a solution for given enough time. She leaned on the sink counter and studied her reflection.

_This is all your fault._ Her inner voice accused. _You let this happen because you couldn't keep yourself in check around that blasted woman._

As the steam started clouding the mirror, her cheeks became hot with tears. She let them fall as she removed her dress and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water join them as they cascaded to the floor.

Twenty minutes later, she dragged herself out of the water, charmed herself dry and shuffled to her bedroom. Without dressing for bed, she collapsed onto the mattress and fell into an exhausted sleep.

***Later that night: Minerva's POV***

Heaving a great sigh, Minerva pulled out her wand to apparate back to the castle. She appreciated more than ever that being Headmistress meant she could apparate directly back into her quarters rather than outside the gates.

"How could I have read the situation so wrongly?" she wondered aloud as she trudged dejectedly towards her couch. "Everything in my gut told me that she would welcome my advances." She plopped inelegantly down and summoned a house elf for a pot of tea and some ginger newts.

Her gaze found the flames in the hearth, licking their way along the logs. A faint pop alerted her to the presence of a young house elf, dressed in the customary tea towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest.

"Here you is, Headmistress," he said, beaming up at her with his tray.

"Thank you," she muttered in response, remembering to smile down at him. "Please just leave it on the coffee table."

After he had done so and apparated back to the kitchens, Minerva reached out to pour herself a cup. Pausing halfway there, she glanced at the hand stretched across the space towards the pot. Giving it a disgusted huff, she continued on her way and snatched a ginger newt off the plate instead, slumping back against the couch with a decidedly childlike pout on her face.

_That hand is the reason I'm in this mess. _She thought to herself.

_Well, if you had just kept the bloody thing to yourself, you might be enjoying a pint with Hermione right now. Well done. _Her inner voice joined the conversation, adding to her guilt.

She nibbled her cookie, glaring into the fire again as the cookie got progressively smaller. "I just don't understand," she muttered. "Maybe I imagined it all. But no," she shook her head, popping the last bite of cookie into her mouth. "The dress, the first name, the hand on my arm, it all points to her feeling more for me as well!"

The irate witch stood to pace in front of her fireplace, tea forgotten. She made several laps before turning to head towards a small ornate cabinet. She reached in, pulled out a bottle of Ogden's Finest firewhiskey and uncorked the top with a well practiced flourish. Pouring herself a healthy measure of the amber liquid, she returned to her pacing, sipping her drink as she went.

"Och, this is ridiculous! I should have just spoken to her!" She tossed back the rest of the liquid in her glass and strode towards her bedroom. Things would look different in the morning, she was sure.

***Sunday morning***

Minerva groaned, shielding her eyes from the sunlight pouring in through her window. The last thing she wanted to deal with was the real world. She dragged her legs over the side of the bed and heaved herself into a sitting position. Scrubbing a hand over her face, she stood to get ready for the day ahead.

After a shower and a simple breakfast of tea and toast, Minerva made her way to her office, dreading the mountain of paperwork that was sure to have accumulated since the day before.

"So, how did it go?"

Minerva met the twinkling blue eyes of Albus's portrait and scowled at him.

"I don't want to talk about it," she huffed, coming around her desk and planting herself in her chair with her back to him.

"Come now, my dear," Albus entreated her, "I'm sure it can't be that bad."

"Of course it can," she muttered back, "she quite literally pushed me away and I'm sure she'll never want to see me again." She scowled even more deeply at the pile of paperwork on her desk and snatched the topmost roll of parchment to begin the arduous task of reading them all.

"May I asked why she pushed you away?" he asked.

"No you may not," she barked at him, trying to concentrate on what turned out to be a letter from the board of governors. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it."

"So what did you do to upset her?" came to low baritone of Severus Snape.

Minerva spluttered and swiveled her chair to glare at him instead.

"Who says I did anything to upset her?! Maybe she started it! Did you think of that, oh great and sneaky master spy?" She felt childish snapping at his portrait, but it made her feel slightly better to let off some steam at someone.

"The insufferable know-it-all has been in love with you for years you daft bimbo," he replied with his distinctive sneer. "So if she pushed you away, she undoubtedly had a reason." He raised an eyebrow at her stunned face.

"In love? For years? But... Then, why? Argh!" Minerva was confused. Ridiculously confused. "Now I really don't understand! If she's in love with me too, shouldn't she have welcomed my advances?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "Had she come to you a month ago and tried to seduce you, would you have welcomed her with open arms? She's been trying to hide her feelings, which," he noted with another derisive sneer, "she was doing an absolutely shite job at by the way, you really are blind."

Minerva scoffed at him, clearly offended.

"She's been trying to hide her feelings from you for so long that suddenly having you pounce on her was probably more of a shock than she was able to handle. You Gryffindors are all the same." He rolled his eyes and stood to leave his frame, giving her one more pointed look before stalking out of view, muttering something about becoming soft.

Minerva slumped back in her chair, gobsmacked by the revelation that none other than Severus Snape had given her a consultation on dating.

"Severus is right my dear," Albus offered. "Being heavy handed in this may have been a poor strategy."

"Thanks a lot," she snarked at him, spinning her chair back around. "I've buggered it up now though, I doubt she'd welcome an owl asking her to tea."

"Possibly not right away," he replied. "But she might just need some time to absorb what happened. It will all work out in the end."

Minerva ignored him and went back to her reading, determined to work her way through all of it before tea time.

***Sunday afternoon***

The fireplace in Ginny Potter's kitchen flared to life in a flash of bright green before Hermione clambered out of it, brushing the soot from her jumper.

"Hermione!" the redhead exclaimed, wiping her hands on a tea towel before moving to embrace her friend. "What brings you round? Is everything okay?"

Hermione released the shorter witch and moved to sit at the kitchen table, slumping over and putting her head on her arms.

"Munava trd t khs ne," she mumbled into the table.

"What was that?" Ginny chuckled at her usually put together friend pouting like a child.

Hermione lifted her head and grimaced. "Minerva tried to kiss me."

Ginny's eyes bugged. "She what?! When?"

"Ugh, last night," Hermione replied, dropping her head back down. "We went out for tea."

Ginny turned to put the kettle on for tea, knowing this would be a doozy of a talk.

"You went for tea?" she asked incredulously, taking cups down from the cupboard. "Going for tea led to nearly being snogged by Minerva bloody McGonagall? How does that work.?"

Hermione lifted her head once more and took a deep breath.

"It works because I threw myself at her like a randy teenage boy, that's how," Hermione groaned. "I can't believe this happened."

Ginny gaped at her, not moving despite the shrill whistling of the kettle.

"Umm, Gin?" Hermione prodded. "The water's boiled."

Ginny blinked and turned to remove the kettle from its place on the stove, pouring the hot water into the teapot on the table.

"So," she began, settling the cozy over the top of the pot. "You're umm, into witches then?"

"That's what you took from that?" Hermione glared at her. "Not the fact that Minerva bloody McGonagall is the issue here?"

"Well, yes, that's obviously an issue too," Ginny replied. "But you have to admit it's a bit of a shock. You've never once mentioned it." At this, her eyes became sad. "Did you think you couldn't tell me?"

Hermione looked up at her, a pained look on her face.

"That's not it exactly," she replied. "I just, I thought I was crazy, having feelings for her. So, I pushed them aside and tried to avoid her like the plague. After that, there was no point in telling anyone, since there was nothing to be done about it."

She reached out to pour the tea into their cups and set a spoon stirring in sugar with a wave of her hand.

"And then I never thought about dating much. I was busy trying to avoid thinking about her. I don't actually know if I'm into witches, or just her, or what. Does that make sense?"

Ginny took a slow sip of her tea, eyeing Hermione over the rim of her cup.

"I suppose," she replied, setting her cup down on the table. "But what I don't understand is how all of this led up to last night."

Hermione grimaced, lifting her cup to take a calming sip of her tea.

"We ran into each other in Diagon Alley a while ago, she invited me out for tea, I tried to say no, but she sent me a cheeky owl and I agreed to meet her." She took a breath, readying herself for what was to come next.

"It was actually nice, we got into old discussions like we used to and I thought 'maybe this will be okay, I _have_ missed our conversations.' But then she invited me out for tea again last night, and I decided to go insteading of going out with Ron, and then I let myself relax and called her by her first name even though I shouldn't have, and I put my hand on her arm while we walked, and then I pulled her into an alley to avoid Ron, and then she tried to kiss me."

She heaved in a huge breath, having rushed through the tale at mach speed to avoid stopping in embarrassment.

Ginny stared at her, absorbing the mass amount of information that had just been thrown at her.

"Err," she muttered. "Okay. Why shouldn't you have called her by her first name? We all do."

Hermione sighed. "Because I was using her title as a wall of sorts. If I never let myself call her by her first name, then I couldn't forget my place. Or hers."

"Okay, but then you did. And then you pulled her into an alley. To avoid Ron?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Hermione asked, huffing into her cup.

"I'm just trying to understand what happened," Ginny defended. "So you pulled her into an alley, then what?"

Hermione blushed. "Err, I sort of pulled her around so that we were tucked against a wall and she was almost pressing up against me.." She ducked her head, staring at the table. "Then she put her hand on my waist and when I asked her what she was doing, she told me she was being bold. Then she tried to kiss me."

"So she obviously has feelings for you too. Then what?"

"No, but that's exactly the point!" Hermione groused. "Being bold doesn't mean she has feelings for me too, it means that I was hanging off her like a randy teenager and she decided to go with it."

Ginny snorted into her tea.

"Right, how many times has someone come onto you and you've just decided to 'go with it?'" Ginny asked her, smirk firmly in place.

"Err, never. But that's beside the point!"

"No, Hermione, it's exactly the point. She wouldn't have tried to kiss you if she didn't actually want to. Did she say anything?"

Hermione turned her head to look out the window, brow furrowing in frustration.

"She said, 'I know you feel it too.' But she knows nothing! Two years I've avoided dealing with her, and she's never once tried to contact me or given me any indication that she had anything but friendly feelings towards me!"

Ginny peered at her friend, not believing what she was hearing from the supposed 'brightest witch of the age.

"You're joking right?" she asked incredulously. "Had you contacted her or given any indication that you had more than friendly feelings for her? Psh, brightest witch of the age," she scoffed. "What if she's been feeling the exact same way and only decided to act on her feelings last night because she thought you might accept them?"

Hermione stared at her, dumfounded.

"I, err," she mumbled. "I hadn't thought of that."

"No, you were too busy freaking out that the woman you're in love with tried to kiss you," Ginny muttered, standing to grab cookies from another cupboard. "You _are_ in love with her, right?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "But now I've ruined everything Gin. I shoved her away, yelled at her, and apparated home before she could say anything."

Ginny handed her a cookie, smiling in support.

"Remember that she has thoughts and feelings too though. She's probably holed up in the head's office, freaking out that you'll never want to see her again because she tried to force herself on you."

"She didn't! I just couldn't handle it."

"But she doesn't know that," Ginny responded evenly. "From the way you reacted, it might seem that way to her."

"Oh."

"Exactly, so what are you going to do about it?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I can't exactly send her an owl and explain everything," Hermione muttered darkly, grabbing another cookie out the box on the table.

"Probably not the best choice," Ginny agreed. "I suggest a bold Gryffindor gesture, something that shows her that you actually do want her, not that she's a pervy old professor who tried to seduce an ex student." Ginny chuckled at her own joke while Hermione glared at her.

"That's not funny, Ginny."

"Of course it is, you just don't appreciate the humour of it right now. So, what are you going to do?"

Hermione thought for a moment before her eyes lit up and she grinned at Ginny.

"I have an idea."

**There it is folks! Don't worry, I'm already working on the next installment :)**

**I decided to make this one a tad shorter, since I'm now not trying to cram it all into a one or two shot, so I hope that's okay with you all haha.**

**I can't believe the response this has gotten! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or faved! I never realized how much I would come to love seeing your comments! **

**That said, I do love them, so click the little button and let me know what you think!**

**Imp**


	3. Part 3: Assumption Well Met

**A/N: Here it is! The final installment! Hope it meets everyone's expectations, enjoy!**

***Several days later***

Minerva paced irritably in her office, brooding over buggering up her chance with Hermione. As she paced, her eyes flicked to the face of her grandfather clock, cursing its snail like pace.

"You should go for a walk my dear," Albus urged her from his frame on the wall behind her.

"I am walking," she grumped, "can't you tell?"

"I mean out of the castle, far from here, clear your head. Pacing a groove in the floor won't make you feel any better."

She turned to glare at him. "Who says I'm doing it to feel better? Maybe I'm just thinking."

"Thinking yourself into a tizzy is more like it," he replied. "Take a book, a non work related book, and go curl up in some cafe with a cup of tea, it will help." His eyes twinkled at her and she huffed, knowing he was probably right, but refusing to admit it.

"I have too much work to do," she muttered coming around her desk and slumping into her chair.

"Yes, pacing the floor with a scowl on your face is tremendously productive," Severus sneered, reappearing in his own frame. "I thought I'd been gone long enough for you to have settled by now, clearly I was wrong."

"Och, stop it, the both of you!" Minerva pushed up and out of her chair, turning to scowl at the two paintings. "I'm leaving, but only to be rid of you two and your ridiculous badgering!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy oak door behind her.

She strode down the corridor, muttering to herself about nosy old men when she passed a bank of windows. She paused, taking in the scenery of the grounds far below. Maybe the nosy old men were right, maybe she did need to get out of the castle. She stared out over the forest and thought about where she might like to go.

Popping into existence in the muggle park, Minerva turned and began walking toward the gate and the street beyond it. Some tea and a book in her favourite shop would be just what she needed to clear her head for awhile.

As she waited for her drink, she scanned the small cafe, eyes drifting toward the corner where she sat with Hermione. Sighing, she retrieved her drink from the counter and made her way to a table on the other side of the room, desperately trying not to think about the young brunette.

She sat at a table in front of the window, idly watching the many muggles rushing by in the early evening light. Settling into the comfortable chair, she opened her book and began to read, becoming completely absorbed in the narrative before her.

Several hours, several chapters, and a stiff neck later, Minerva emerged from her book feeling lighter than she had for days. She stood, deposited her cup on the sideboard with the rest of the patrons' dirty dishes, and stepped out into the cool evening air. She inhaled deeply and set off toward the park, letting the good mood carry her to the gazebo where she planned to sit awhile and think.

The gravel crunched under her feet as she strolled down the path, drowning out the many city sounds that, while she appreciated muggle London, also felt like they took away from the serenity of being out of the wizarding world.

As she rounded the bend in the path and her way was illuminated by the hundreds of tiny lights, her gaze caught sight of someone sitting in the gazebo ahead of her.

"Bugger" she muttered as she slowed her pace, debating whether to continue toward the gazebo or not. Solitude was her companion, and she didn't relish sharing space with a stranger.

The stranger stood at her approach, and Minerva thanked her lucky stars that whoever it was might be leaving. She turned away to let the person pass without feeling under any scrutiny, and admired the way the lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees around her.

"Hello Minerva."

Minerva whipped around at the familiar voice saying her name. There before her, was none other than Hermione Granger, clad in the white dress from Saturday night, soft curls blowing gently in the small breeze.

"Hermione!" Minerva choked out, her face twisted in confusion and shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you." She stepped closer, peering up at Minerva through her lashes. "I hoped you'd come back here soon. I've been here every night waiting for you, I was beginning to lose hope that you'd ever come back."

"Yes, well, I needed some time away from the castle," she muttered, gazing at Hermione with wide eyes and taking a step away from the younger witch. "Some of those bloody portraits need a silencing charm." She took a steadying breath. "What are you really doing here Hermione?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and stepping away further.

Hermione stepped along with her and Minerva's senses began to overload. She had learned her lesson last time, Hermione was off limits, no matter how she was acting, she needed to leave before she hurt the golden girl again.

"I wanted to apologize.. Minerva," Hermione uttered, looking her in the eyes. "I'm sorry for the way I reacted on Saturday. It wasn't fair to you to push you away without asking you what your intentions were. I was afraid." She stepped closer again and Minerva faltered backwards. "Afraid that the feelings I'd been trying to bury were going to be trampled on or toyed with."

"I, err," Minerva stuttered dumbly.

"Please let me finish," Hermione stepped forward once more until Minerva was all but backed against a tree. "Your touch wasn't unwelcome, I was just surprised, but I've had time to think and now it's my turn to be bold." She reached out a hand to cup Minerva's face. "If you'll let me." She stilled, and Minerva stood frozen, sure she was dreaming this entire encounter.

"Hermione," she started, gazing at the younger witch. "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to regret taking this action because of how I behaved last week. I don't want to hurt you again." She reached up to cradle the hand on her own cheek and sighed, closing her eyes at the sensation of Hermione's skin on her own.

"I thought you'd detest me when I realized my feelings for you so long ago. I've never wanted anything more in my life, knowing that you might feel the same." Hermione drew her thumb across Minerva's cheek and smiled when the older witch's eyes snapped open. "May I?"

Minerva drew in a shuddering breath, knowing this was her last chance to get out of this, to step away and avoid the possibility of things going badly again, but also knowing that if she walked away, there would be no more chances, this was it.

She nodded.

Hermione smiled again, leaning forward, eyes fluttering shut millimeters from contact. As their lips met for the first time, Minerva felt the sensation of coming home wash over her, like nothing in the world could ever be more perfect. She wound her hands around Hermione's waist, pulling her in closer and melting into the embrace at the same time.

As they broke apart, Minerva opened her eyes to gaze at the woman before her. The look in Hermione's brown eyes told her that she was ecstatic and yet still fearful. That wouldn't do. Time to be that brave Gryffindor.

"You're so beautiful." Hermione smiled at the compliment and relaxed slightly in her arms. "Would you like to go on a date with me Miss Granger?"

"Only if you promise never to call me Miss Granger again," Hermione replied.

**A/N: Yay! We made it to the end! Thoughts? Let me know what you think!**

**Imp**


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